I NEED A GIRLFRIEND
I went into the kitchen and made myself comfortable at the kitchen table. I took my shoes off and sat in front of the computer. I went on my Facebook page to see what was new with my Facebook friends. This social network was so funny to me. Some people praised the Lord and shared their testimonies. Some complained about going to work, and some left subliminal messages.
What killed me about those people is that no one really cared.
Actually, there was always the nosey bunch who asked for an explanation. Of course, they would never get an answer. It was always those “none of your business” type of answers. Those answers always made you feel dumb or wish you never would have asked them in the first place. Then, you got the ones that give you updates on the reality TV shows and ball games.
There were folks who let you know they are going on vacation or headed for an exciting evening out.
The funny ones were the people who had to let you know what they were eating and upload a picture as proof.
There was always a Happy Birthday shout out to someone who was dead.
The ones that drove me crazy were the ones who lived on Facebook all day. They would update their status constantly with a minute-by-minute play of their lives. They changed their profile picture every two days.
“You are not that interesting!” I shouted at Kalena’s computer, chuckling.
The thought occurred to me that I could just delete this one girl as a friend. She’s a friend of a friend anyways, a housewife and mama of five kids. She was a stay-at-home and she updated with a “good morning” and then it was on from there, every step of her boring ole life.
She played all the Facebook games too. She was literally on Facebook 24 hours a day.
I could get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and just check my crackberry and she was playing Mafia Wars, Family Feud, Farmville, Petville and Sorority Life.
Here were her posts from this morning:
“I think I’ll take a bubble bath instead of a shower this morning.”
“Playing with the cat Sergio. He’s so cute,” followed by an uploaded picture of Sergio.
“Putting my son down for a nap. Chat a little later.”
“Happy happy joy joy!”
I mean, they were just random stuff like, “I hear the ice cream truck coming. Maybe I’ll go get some treats for us. BRB.”
I wished the truck would run your tail over one good time and then you wouldn’t be able to type for awhile. “Stop it Journee Bell,” I said to myself as I chuckled again out loud.
“What is BRB?” I thought.
Hmmm, there were so many acronyms, I couldn’t figure that one out. But I would not post a comment to ask Lauren.
“Kalena?”
“Huh?”
Her voice sounded as if she was headed my way to join me in her kitchen.
“What does BRB mean?”
“Girl, I don’t know.”
She was probably sitting right at her computer like Facebook is paying her to. So I commented, “Hey Lauren, how you doing girl? What’s BRB?” I hit send.
I scrolled down and my sister’s status was next:
Jordyn Bell: “Boot camp kicked my butt.”
I smiled and decided to reply: “Girl, it will kick your butt and your hair!” I ended it with a smiley face. I got a reply from Lauren saying BRB means be right back.
I just sat there with my fingers on the keyboard ready to reply. I couldn’t believe she actually replied so quickly. But then again, I could believe it.
I just replied “Ok thx”, because Kalena had just sat down and we had some planning to do. But before I could get off of Facebook, I had another message.
It was from a name I didn’t know. I figured it was one of my sister’s friends.
C. Fuller responded to me suggesting I should cut my hair off. This person’s profile picture was a spray-painted wall that read “I NEED A GIRLFRIEND”. It reminded me of Bobby Brown’s song from back in the day. I wanted to investigate who just butted themselves into my convo I was having with my sister.
“Ok, Ms. Lady,” Kalena said. “Where should we begin?”
I looked up, eyebrows raised. “Huh?”
“My wedding? Hello? See, this is how Bridezillas are created.”
“Girl, please. I will beat you silly before that happens. You ain’t gotta be getting all bent out of shape to get your points across.”
“Okay, I promise,” Kalena agreed “but I just want to be heard.”
I heard Kalena but had pulled up C. Fuller’s photo albums. There were two men standing outside of a house with their baseball caps on low. I didn’t recognize either one of them, so I was trying to scroll to the next picture until Bridezilla demanded my attention.
“Ok, ok, ok,” I said. “You know Facebook is addicting.”
As I logged off, I couldn’t help but wonder why a man would suggest a woman to cut her hair off. Usually men like long hair. What a weirdo, I thought as I clicked out of dude’s profile. I was about to log off when I noticed Najah had uploaded the pictures from Kalena’s graduation and the party.
“Look, Bridezilla. Najah uploaded the pictures from Saturday. Do you wanna see them?”
“She did?” Kalena asked, excited. She got up from the seat across from mine and moved her seat closer to me.
“She tagged all of us already, too.” I added.
“Yeah, you know she don’t waste no time,” she said. “Her camera takes good pictures too.” We spent the next hour laughing and commenting on all 133 photos.